


Me, Myself, and Hermann

by GloriaVictoria, Sarah1281



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaVictoria/pseuds/GloriaVictoria, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: In the wake of Newt's defeat, he struggles to define his own thoughts against the whispers of the precursors. Hermann's presence complicates things but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Newt always did love a challenge.





	Me, Myself, and Hermann

The room was small and quiet. Or at least Newt supposed it sounded quiet to anyone else. There was...well, it wasn’t quite noise so maybe it was quiet after all? There was a steady stream of _something_ in his head. 

He couldn’t say that it was a pleasant sensation but it helped to pass the time. Exactly how much time he couldn’t say, as there was no clock in here. Probably standard operating procedure for prisoners, both a lack of consideration and a way to disorient him and break his will. 

As though he had any more will left to be broken. 

It was kind of nice that the PPDC thought that he did, though. Or maybe it was just sad. Or maybe it was just Hermann. 

His heart lurched at that thought. 

What was it that he had said to Hermann back then? He was barely even listening to himself speak, so terribly preoccupied by the majestic event about to unfold before them. By the wondrous destruction he had brought to life. By the niggling sensation in his head that Hermann had seen too much. 

What was it that he had said? 

_"Maybe I hate you all for treating me like an insignificant little joke of a man."_

That had hurt Hermann. Newton had been lucid enough in his moment of triumph to see that. Hermann’s face had fallen and he had cast his eyes down to the ground in...guilt? He knew perfectly well how the others had thought of Newton, and he’d barely said a word to stop them. Hell, some of it--a lot of it--hadn’t been too far off. 

Why would Hermann feel guilt at this point? At the end? It was too late to be anything more than useless pity. 

The last thing Newton ever wanted to be was pitied. Surely now, surely at the height of his achievement, Hermann fucking Gottlieb wasn’t going to stand there and pity him. 

Heroism and changing the world weren’t what Hermann wanted. Newt knew that. All he had ever wanted was his chalk and his numbers and his tea and his books. And then, maybe, a good argument or two. 

Well making his mark this way hadn’t always been what Newt had wanted either. Sometimes you just went where the world decided to take you. Sometimes you were called and chosen and who are you to say no? He would defy anyone to call him insignificant or a joke now. 

_Don't you want to hurt the ones who mistreated you all these years?_ Hell yeah, he did. _And Hermann--oh, he may love you, but he still sees you as a joke. A fool of a man who can't finish anything, who can't focus on anything, who can't shut his mouth for a second._ Well, he’d shown him, hadn’t he? He’d nearly finished the entire planet.

Hermann had a lot of fucking nerve to pretend that he’d come for him, anyway. As usual, the first thing he’d wanted to talk about was his work. He didn’t care. 

If he cared so goddamn much, where was he now? If he cared so much, he ought to be crawling on his knees across this cell they shoved him in, begging for forgiveness. It’s the least he could do. 

He had ruined everything and he wasn’t even here. 

_He let you walk away so easily. He just watched you leave. He didn't even beg you to stay. And now look at you. You would never have done the same.You'd have chased him down and made him talk to you and gotten a goddamn explanation._

But then, Hermann hadn’t gotten himself mindfucked by a bunch of evil aliens, did he? That hadn’t been for lack of trying. _You can bring him here and make him yours and mold him into what you want him to be. Make him understand. Make him see how remarkable and powerful you are._ Yeah, that hadn’t exactly panned out. 

All those desperate letters and emails Hermann had sent over the years, most of them he had only half-finished responses to, and he couldn’t even be bothered to sit down to dinner. Couldn’t meet Alice. Possessive right up until the point that he was just gone. 

He heard the distant sound of footsteps over his head, the pitter-patter of little PPDC rangers piecing together what was left of their precious Shatterdome. He closed his eyes and tried to count them, but the sound in his head grew louder. Boy, he could really use a drink right about now. 

How exactly did one celebrate the failure of a plot ten years in the making and only a future too dark to envision to look forward to? 

He decided that there would be vodka. 

_He never believed in you. He said you would just get yourself killed. And then he walked away, knowing what you're like, and did nothing to stop you. Nothing to save you._

That’s right. Hermann always said shit like that, like Newton didn’t know full well how dangerous his experiments were. Like that wasn’t the _point_. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Hermann always held back, and that’s why he didn’t see this coming. That’s why he stood there on that helipad ten years ago and watched as Newton flew away from him. That’s why he hadn’t said anything, the _one time_ it really mattered.

He’d almost stayed. He really had. He hadn’t fully understood at the time his own motivations for leaving, let alone anyone else’s. If he had said two damn words Newt had been prepared to retract his acceptance of Shao’s generous offer and run screaming from the private sector the way half of him had wanted to. 

But he hadn’t. He had just stood there, face pale and hand tightly gripping his cane, and watched him go. Had watched him stay gone. Had sent missive after missive out into the world without the slightest hint that he had been heard. 

But then...he had been there at the end. When there was the alarm and Shao’s people had come to take him away to wherever corporate monsters took people who had betrayed them. And he knew that for all the might of the Precursors there was only so much they could do with his pathetic human body. He never would have managed to overcome Shao’s goons on his own. But he hadn’t had to. Hermann had been there, a miracle and a horror, and had unleashed his quick fury on the men in the elevator. 

He had sounded so admiring when he called Newt a sneaky bastard and for a moment Newt had let himself forget just what exactly came next. What Hermann had allowed him to do. 

_"He didn't do it for you. He did it for the world."_

Well that much was obvious. Hermann was so predictable, always blathering on about saving the world and not opening breaches or growing kaiju parts or whatever Newt had done to offend him this week. Even when he was helping Newt, it had been with the assumption Shao had been the one behind the attack. As if she could ever had had the vision. 

And when it was all laid on the table, when Newt could barely stand to watch the horror and the heartbreak unfold right before his eyes, what had Hermann done? He had chosen the world over Newt in the most obvious manner possible. 

His thumb had been rubbing Newt’s hand. Why had he done that? Then the bullets came and Shao and Hermann’s desperate “don’t” as if he still couldn’t take Newt seriously. What would it take? Actually managing to choke the life out of him? He...didn’t want to think about that. Probably not even then. He’d find some way to make it an accident or maybe he just spontaneously choked to death and the hand around his throat had nothing to do with it. Hermann always was a stubborn one. 

_He doesn't need you. Look at that exploding kaiju blood. There isn't a more Newton move than that. And yet he just wanted you to take a look at his work. Wanted to prove just how much he's moved beyond you._

Was that true? He had looked so upset that Newt refused to help. But he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Knew more than he realized about what he was talking about, what the blood could be used for. When did he become such a biologist anyway? Back in the day that would have been something Pentecost would have had to turn to Newt for. Now...now it was just one more way that Hermann had moved on. Had moved on and left Newt trapped in the remnants of the last war. 

_All of your friends are dead now. All you had back there is Hermann, and he's moved on. He doesn't want you. But you can make him want you again. You can show him._

That wasn’t true. Newt _knew_ that wasn’t true. Was this the Precursors or his own damnable thoughts? What did it mean that he honestly didn’t know? What difference did it even make? He had had other people once, some of them even still among the living the last he had checked. 

It had been awhile since he had checked. 

They just hadn’t fought to stay half as hard as Hermann had when Newt had left them behind. 

And Hermann hadn’t tried anywhere near hard enough. He had given up, the way they had all given up in the end. Newt wasn’t worth fighting for. He had never been worth fighting for. But he was worth _something_ and if it killed him he would make Hermann see that. 

_You can't turn back now. Mako is dead. You did that. You know this. Soon they will all know this. They would never take you back._

Mako. 

Why was she there? Why was she on that committee? Why had her damnable instincts led her to hesitate on approving the drones? He had never wanted to hurt her. He had watched her grow up! But there were always casualties in war. He knew that as well as he knew that nobody would ever understand. Casualties were only acceptable on their terms, not his. Pentecost told Herc’s barely-grown son to die and sent Mako and Raleigh to certain death and it had to be done. Newt had taken out a needed complication in his plan to fix things and no one could stand to look at him. 

_Hermann will never want you now. You're a murderer. A killer. You murdered your friend. And now, we will destroy this world and he will look upon you with nothing but FEAR._

Hermann had already looked so terrified back in the office. He hadn’t understood and he still thought there was a chance to turn back. That chance had passed long ago and Hermann had missed it, safe in his precious Shatterdome. 

And he had been the one to kill Mako, hadn’t he? He hadn’t wanted to but what difference did that make? It was still his fingers on the keys making it happen. Hermann had loved Mako every bit as much as he did, possibly more since he had undoubtedly still stayed in contact with her this past decade. 

Hermann could forgive almost anything when it came to himself but if someone hurt someone he had cared about...well, Newt had been on the receiving end of that protective instinct before. He would have preferred to stay on that side now, though he was well aware he didn’t deserve it. Once, he might have even said Hermann cared about him.

_If he cared so much, why isn't he here with you now? Why didn't he come with you? Oh, that's right. The work. Isn't that what he always cared about? His numbers and his calculations. And now, he's using YOUR research to build himself up. Selfish. If he loved you so much, he'd have come with you. Built a life with you. But he didn't want that. He didn't want YOU._

Newton knew enough about Hermann to understand that his work meant more to him than figures and formulas. Hermann used his work to survive, as an escape. Why _did_ he delve into Kaiju research? He'd always hated it. That didn't make sense. But then, what about this entire fucking situation made any sense at all?

Newton closed his eyes. The buzzing in his head had grown louder and more disorienting. 

_Just take that final step, Newton. End this. End everything. What does any of it matter anyway? Hermann will never love you now. He will never take you back. Just end it._

He had been prepared to do it. Hermann had proven himself useless, absent, superfluous. And oh, it hurt. It hurt coming to that conclusion. It would be better this way. If he could see the life leave Hermann's eyes, if he extinguished him with his bare hands, maybe then he'd have the closure he'd need to finish what he had started. 

But Newton stopped. He couldn't do it, not because of a want for strength, but because Hermann...Hermann didn't even fight him. That gave him pause. Newton knew full well he could have made it a real struggle. He'd just beaten down three bodyguards with a cane. 

He didn't push him away, no; Hermann had _stroked his hand with his thumb_. Honestly, looking back on it all, that had been the moment where it all went wrong, because Newton told Hermann everything he needed to know to keep him fighting. Seven little words toppled his perfect plan.

_“I’m sorry, Hermann. They're inside my head.”_

God, that had been stupid.

_You see? He understands now. He sees how powerful you are. How powerful We are, together. He will never doubt you ever again. Just squeeze a little harder, Newt. End him._

He probably would have, had Shao not shown up and started shooting. If he had, maybe things would have gone differently. Maybe...he'd have won. 

Newton's mind kept ruminating on that moment, running a play-by-play again and again, like a record caught on the same crappy song. Maybe it had ended earlier than that. Maybe he had lost when Hermann had said--

 _You're a good man. That is what he says, what he demands. Always insisting on his terms, never yours. So what if you weren't? What if this was what you wanted? He still doesn't understand, still doesn't care to look beyond the surface. All he can think about is how to make you less than what you are._

Hermann hadn't demanded. He'd merely spoken, stated a fact. _“Newton...you're a good man.” You're a good man. A good man._ Maybe once, that had been true. Maybe once, he'd been _Hermann's_ good man. Now, he wasn't sure what he was. 

The buzzing abruptly stopped right around the time he heard the bolt-action locks of his cell door click open. _Great,_ he thought. _Another round of moralizing and posturing from the Bot Squad._

But it wasn't Pentecost, or Lambert, or Hansen. It wasn't the ghost of Mako Mori. It wasn't any of the people he expected. As the door swung open, he was genuinely shocked to see Hermann pass through the threshold. 

_Hermann let them. He let them do this to you. Don't you see? _

Hermann looked as if he hadn't slept in days. 

Newt felt a vicious stab of glee at that. Good. If he was suffering then it was only right that Hermann was, too. But why would he be suffering? He had won. Probably up too late celebrating with all his new fascist ranger pals. 

That felt wrong, somehow, but Newt pushed it down. He was good at pushing things down these days. 

Hermann didn’t say anything to Newt at first as he shuffled his way to the chair across from him and sat down. He looked Newt in the eye for a long time, just...staring at him. Observing him, like a specimen. Newt stared right back. The cut on Hermann’s lip hadn’t yet healed, and the bruises on Hermann’s neck had darkened to an ugly purple. 

“I would ask what took you so long to come see me,” Newt said at last, “except honestly I’m more surprised that you even came at all. Here to poke and prod at me?” 

Hermann looked stricken. “I don’t...How can you say that?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Newt said, feeling a terrible calmness fill him. “Maybe it was the four solid months where you didn’t try to make contact with me once. Seems to me like you already gave up on me long before you had any idea about any of this.” 

Was his hand trembling? It was hard to be sure so Newt peered closer. 

“That’s not fair,” Hermann said quietly. 

Newt didn’t try to stop the slightly manic laughter that burst out of him at that. 

“I wrote you an email every day for a year,” Hermann said, his eyes flashing. 

“That’s great but what about lately? You give up so easily. I had to watch you give up on me. It was slower than the rest, I’ll give you that, but that doesn’t change the end result.”

“Newton,” Hermann said, almost like a benediction. “Newton, I dropped everything to see you the very second I heard you had come with the rest of Shao’s people. I was so excited to see you, so hopeful. I hadn’t had any sign that were even still among the living outside of those terrible television appearances you made for over a year before that. But I thought...I really thought the kaiju blood would have excited you. Would have given me a place to start.” 

“Oh, of course,” Newt said, scoffing. Hermann always had such a way with words when it mattered. Maybe not the most eloquent but that made it feel truer somehow. “I come right to your door. You’re looking at something I specialize in. You were so happy to see me for all of five minutes. _That’s_ how much you care. _That’s_ how much effort I’m worth to you.” 

“Newton, you _vanished_. I didn’t know what to do. I thought you wanted to move on, you just--you stopped telling me anything, Newton.” 

“Guess you don’t know me as well as you thought. So much for Drift compatibility, huh?” Newt watched Hermann’s hands tighten around the head of his cane. 

_He can’t even take responsibility for what he did to you, Newton. Your fault, as usual. As if he had nothing to do with it. All those little moments when you tried so hard, fought so valiantly, managed to claw your way out and send out pathetic little cries for help. Almost a miracle, really, given how weak you are._

“I don’t blame Shao’s people for not noticing, you know,” Newt said. “What could they know? They never met me before. But you’d been in my goddamn head. You saw all the little cracks. I introduce myself as Doctor Newton Geiszler now, did you know that? Yeah, and I don’t wear glasses anymore. I know I’ve told you about the CrossFit I do because I tell everybody about that. I’m one of _those_ people now, Hermann. I went to work in the private sector when I used to refer to the military personnel surrounding us as fascists on a daily basis. I didn’t want to help blow kaiju blood up with you! I was talking about the lack of practical application! When did I ever do that? You used to ask me if I even knew what that meant!” 

Hermann said nothing, perhaps sensing he wasn’t finished with his rant. 

“Let’s say it was true. Let’s say all those ridiculous little lies I told, about a happy partnership with a person who truly understands and loves me-” _as if that could ever be true_ “-were true. How many times had I tried to tell you? How many times had I invited him to meet Alice? And you wouldn't even do that. That's a real minimum for a friendship, meeting one's partner. That last day, at the lab? You would have clearly rather starved than meet mine."

“And just what,” Hermann said in a measured, careful voice, “would you have done if I had said yes that day?” 

Newt’s smile could cut glass. “I guess we’ll never know. Was it a cry for help? A ploy to take you out of the game? An attempt to gain a friend for the end of the world? I wonder.” 

“Newton, I know that I...that I did not handle this in the ideal way-” Hermann started to say. 

Newt snorted. “All those times and you never noticed a thing. All those times I was begging you to notice that the rock star who would go to a protest if he was half-dead wasn’t going to just turn into Mr. Corporate and you just let me brush it off with an ‘I’m tired’ and went back to your work. Back to your life that didn’t include me. It was an easy excuse. It was what you wanted to hear. You didn’t care enough to see the truth and you never did. You can’t even see the difference between me and us.” 

Hermann took a moment to respond to that. “It doesn’t sound like you’re terribly pleased with your...collaboration with the Precursors, Newton.”

Newt let out a harsh laugh. “That’s what you got from all that? Maybe I didn’t make the best choices and don’t love being down here? Man, it’s like talking to a brick wall.” 

“That wasn’t the only thing that I got out of that,” Hermann replied. “But it does seem like the most useful place to start. You can’t save somebody who doesn’t want to be saved.” 

“And is that what you are, Hermann? My fucking _savior_?” Newt asked, sneering. “You’re ten goddamn years too late.” 

“No, not ten, I don’t think,” Hermann said thoughtfully. “I am late, yes, but not too late. I am here now. And we will save you. Together.” A wistful smile. “Like the jaeger pilots do.” 

Newton swallowed hard, trying his best to thwart the lump rising in his throat. “That--thats a fucking laugh. So we're Drift compatible now? How fucking romantic.” Newton sneered bitterly at Hermann, pouring venom into his gaze, daring him to look away. Hermann didn't flinch. “Let’s get real, Hermann. You don't want me. You watched me quietly die in front of you years ago and you didn't even notice. You want the _idea_ of me that you've built up over the years, your perfect complement. The man that you knew within ten seconds of meeting in person that I could never be."

“That's not--” Hermann paused, trying to collect himself. “That's not true. On the contrary, I'm here to find that man and bring him home.” 

“Right. Sure.” Newt rolled his eyes. _Of course_ he's gonna say something like that. _He wants you to fall into his arms, wants everything to magically repair itself with the power of love. That's not reality. There's no fixing you now._

“Newton, I'm not here to fix you.” Hermann replied, as if reading Newton's thoughts--they were Newton’s thoughts...right? Come to think if it, he wasn't quite sure anymore. He found that he couldn't look at Hermann anymore, but he could hear him. "I know it probably means nothing, after all this time. I understand why you're angry. I. I'm sorry, Newton. I should have known earlier something was wrong. I should have....

“Yes, well, you should have done a lot of things,” Newt said. “I guess...maybe...you might not have been the only one.” He laughed tiredly. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m not the man you knew.” 

“You’re not,” Hermann admitted. “But neither am I.”

Newt blinked in surprise. 

“Ten years is a very long time, Newton. No one stays stuck in amber. I would like to think that I have changed for the better but, then, the man I was then would have known what to say to you now. I always knew what to say to you then.” 

“You always knew the exact wrong thing to say to me,” Newt argued. 

“Even so.” Hermann lapsed into silence. “I’ve been taking a look at who I was then and comparing it with who I am now. I quite think I’ve become more like you, Newton. Perhaps it’s the effects of the drift. Perhaps it was simply our close association. Either way, I cannot say that it is a bad thing.” 

Well that was...what was he supposed to say about that? It was preposterous. Hermann had always been irritated by all of the things that had most made him himself. Not that he was much like that these days. The loudness, the chaos,the mile-a-minute ideas...what had ever happened to those? One more sacrifice in the name of his goal, he supposed. 

“I miss you, Newton. I missed you every day since you left. That’s why I always tried so hard to see you again. But I just…”

_“Here it comes. The excuses. All the reasons to look away. He was in your head and he never did understand. You could already begin to feel us, even if you didn't realize it. And he never even asked. He never even looked. He still won’t look. All you've done, all you've accomplished. Ten solid years of work, of pulling the wool over everyone's eyes. You're uncancelling the apocalypse and what does he see? Does he see the brilliance? The creativity? The blood, sweat, and tears? Or does he just want to stuff you back into the box of who you were ten years ago. The fool he didn't even want when he had him."_

“You make it awfully hard to believe you,” Newt said quietly. “You let me go. You sent letters, sure, but you just took no for an answer. I needed you and all it took to stop you was...what? Not hearing a response? You let my ghosts ghost you, dude.” 

Something complicated flashed across Hermann’s face. “I was trying to do the right thing. I thought you changed your mind, about me. About...us. And I wasn’t going to force you to say it. I know you, Newton. You’re so often thoughtless but never cruel. If you were trying to let me down easy then I was going to let you. I was going to give you that gift.”

There was a strange stinging sensation in his eyes. “Don’t pretend you did this for me.” 

“I-I guess I didn’t. But I thought I was. I guess I was so prepared for a rejection that I didn’t question it. I let my insecurities help the Precursors drive me away. There’s no excuse for that. If that was what you wanted, for whatever reason, for me to go away and stay gone then I would have done it. It would have killed me but I would have done it. More than that, I-I _did_ do it.” 

“I want you to go away now,” Newt said. He said that, didn’t he? It certainly sounded like him. 

But Hermann didn’t move. “Tell me that again when the Precursors are gone and I will. Forever, if that’s what you want. But things are different now. You’re not fully in control and I won’t leave while that remains true. You don’t have to fight them alone anymore, Newton.” 

“Pretty words,” Newt spat but it was feeling less and less like something he wanted to say to Hermann. “Words are easy.” 

“You don’t have to believe me today,” Hermann said gently. “You don’t have to believe me tomorrow. But one day I will have proved it enough.” 

“What did you even think was happening?” Newt asked, realizing with a start that he was something approaching curious. It had been a long time since he had felt that rush. “You said you thought I just...what? Changed my mind?” 

“It’s foolish,” Hermann said. 

“Hearing about you being foolish would kind of make my fucking day right now, Hermann.” 

“I...Very well. I thought you realized that I was too...too predictable. Too unadventurous. Too boring. That I couldn’t be what you needed.” 

Newt just stared at him dumbfounded. “Wow, Hermann. Just...wow.” 

Hermann flushed. “I now recognize that this was not what was happening and that this led me to fail to realize...well, not exactly what had happened. I don’t believe it was reasonable of me to have been able to predict that. This was entirely uncharted territory. But if I hadn’t been caught up with my own feelings I would have realized that there was something wrong and tried to help before it came to this.” 

“Hermann, I could call you a lot of things. I have, in fact, called you many, many things over the years. Loads of them not exactly flattering. But ‘boring’ is one word that never made the list. I mean, honestly. Out here working to stop the impossible? To calculate the unpredictable? Drifting with a kaiju with me? What part of that screams ‘boring’ to you?” 

Hermann’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “When you put it that way…” 

_"How sweet. Now you’re comforting him after what he ruined? It’s not enough that you allowed them to chain you up to this chair like a dog. An animal. That's how much they think of you, these PPDC thugs who don't even know you. And Hermann, who pretends he cares, let them. He LET them do this to you. Don't you see?"_

Did he see that? He wasn’t sure. 

It was true that he was chained up. It was true that it was uncomfortable and demeaning. It was true that Hermann was standing right here watching that and not doing a damn thing to help him. 

But he would survive this. And when it counted, when his life was on the line and Shao was firing at him, Hermann had spoken for him. Newt had dropped him on the ground after nearly choking the life from him and his first thought was protecting the person who did that to him. 

On the one hand there was the Hermann who had never given enough of a shit, who had just abandoned him to his fate and came whining to him afterwards because it just wasn’t the same. On the other was the man who had left him so many voicemails that he had had to buy more storage space and who had a worrying lack of concern for his own life because he saw that Newt was in distress. They couldn’t both be true. 

Hermann had left him to be chained up but he was clearly hating every moment of it. He hadn’t reacted in kind to all the vitriol Newt had spewed at him. He was offering his help even now. 

_"He's going to try and stop you. He's going to try and stop Us. He won't let Us win. Do you want that? After all the work We've done, he's here to thwart you again. He doesn't respect you or your work. He never did, did he? All he did was mock you, even when you were his lover. He never respected you. He used you and then let you walk away."_

The words felt familiar. They made sense. But there was something discordant about them this time and for the first time Newt asked himself if that was really what he thought. 

It was true Hermann wouldn’t let them win but winning meant the end of everything. The end of Hermann and everything he cared for. He forced himself to face that fact, which he had spent years trying not to think about. He didn’t respect the coming apocalypse but the admiration in his voice when he saw Newt’s backdoor and called him a ‘sneaky bastard’ was unmistakable and painful to remember. 

Hermann opposed Newt’s goals but hadn’t he always in some way? Was it really so unreasonable for Hermann to fight to save the world once more, even when Newt himself had given up on that? 

That’s when he realized. 

" _...I do see_ ,” Newt thought in the Precursors’ general direction. “ _I see now. Hermann did this because of YOU. Hermann did this because...he knows it was you all along._ "

A laugh so violent he winced. 

" _Is that really what you think? Hermann doesn't care. He wants to punish you just like all the rest of them. He’ll weep such pretty tears at your execution. Humanity must have its sacrificial lamb._ ”

“Newton?” Hermann leaned forward a bit, brows knotted in concern. “Please, say something.”

“You’re the only one who cared enough to reach out to me. You’re the only one fighting to save me.” Newton looked into Hermann’s eyes, now welling up with tears. “Everyone else just wants to put me through the fucking meat grinder, but you…”

 _You're fooling yourself. He wants you vulnerable, so he can get what he wants from you. All that precious knowledge of Our world. He wants to take it._ \--If that was true, why wasn’t this an interrogation? _He doesn't love you. Look at him. Lying to your face._ \--Hermann had never lied to him. Not once in his goddamn life. _He promised he wouldn't leave you._ \--No. Newton had left him. 

"I should have stayed." Newton said in barely more than a whisper. Hermann didn’t respond. He watched, carefully, as if somehow he understood that Newton was waging a war in his own mind. 

_He let you leave. Some love._

“Oh, Newton. No. It’s not your fault.” Hermann finally croaked, his voice full of emotion. “You had every right to go, to live the life you wanted. Don’t you see? That’s what I’m trying to t-tell you. I just wish I’d had the courage to tell you...how badly I wanted that life to include me.” 

Newton stared at Hermann in disbelief. How could this be real? “How can you say something like that, Hermann?” He hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but it slipped from between his lips nevertheless. Hermann smiled shakily, and a tear rolled down the delicate arch of his cheek.

“"Because it's true, Newton. I should have tried harder.” Hermann paused to wipe his eye with the back of his hand. That little gesture made Newton feel as if something inside him was breaking. He almost said something, but instead the Precursors rose to his lips like bile. 

"He doesn't want you, you know," The voice of the Precursors speaks through him, and he sees Hermann’s face grow pale. "He just wants a knight in shining armor. A hero to save him from the big, bad Hivemind. You've already proven yourself inadequate for the task. Without Shao you'd be rotting as we speak. But he's driven everyone else away so there are no better options." 

Hermann pursed his lips together, and Newton knew he’d get up and walk away. Hermann couldn’t take much more of this, no way. Couldn’t see as he blamed him. Just another fuck-up to add to the monumental list. 

But he didn’t. He didn’t even move, his face like a stone slab. After what felt like years of silence, Hermann finally spoke. 

“Enough. I've had enough of you. I would _rather_ rot than listen to another word you have to say. You will not scare me away with your cruel games." Hermann took a deep breath, then continued. “I see clearly now what you’re doing to him. I've had my share of evil voices in my head too. Years and years and years of fear and shame and self-hatred. And that's all you are. A construct in his mind. A cancer telling him that he is unworthy.” He smirked, another tear threatening to fall from his lashes. “Even if that were true, it wouldn't even matter. That's not what love is." He paused for a moment. "Newton, I'm not asking you for anything. When I say I love you, it's not because I want you, or because I can't have you - it has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try... I've seen your kindness, and your strength, I've seen the best and the worst of you and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are."

“Oh, really?” Newton feels his mouth curl into a cruel sneer. “It doesn’t matter what you think We are. We’ve already won. You’ll never have him back, not the way he was. He’s worthless. Broken.” 

Hermann straightened his back. “Let me tell you something. Newton is the worthiest man in the world. He is all I ever wanted, and I'll be damned if you torment him another moment. For every cruel thing you tell him, I will shower a thousand cares upon him. I will flush you out. And then what will you have?” Hermann smirked. "You are nothing. And Newton....Newton is everything."

Wait.

"Just a minute ago, did… D-did you just quote Buffy at me?" 

Hermann laughed, and it’s the most infectious, beautiful sound Newton thought he’s heard in years. “I’ve been awfully bored.” His lower lip quivered, even as he smiled. He rose from the chair and moved closer to Newton, close enough that he could smell all of Hermann’s familiar smells: lavender, chamomile, chalk. He reached down and touched Newton’s cheek tenderly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. For a moment, Newton felt a flicker of panic, a desire to jerk out of Hermann’s grasp, but he fought it with everything he had. 

He _wanted_ this. He wanted _him_. 

"I failed you once, Newton. No, I failed you more than that. I failed you every day that I left you alone. But that ends today, do you hear me? I am not about to fail you again. Not one more time." Hermann tilted Newton’s head upwards, and for a moment he thought he’d kiss him. Instead, he pressed his forehead against Newton’s, caressing his scruffy cheek with his thumb. “I will never leave you alone again, Newton Geiszler. If you’ll allow me.” 

_You'll never be able to come back. Life doesn't work like that. We could leave now and you could never go back to being that man that he loved. You’re too broken for that._

"Maybe...maybe I am. But I'm gonna try just to spite you, you fuckin' bastards." He mutters, and Hermann looks down at him quizzically. 

“Did you say something?” Newton just buried his face into Hermann’s chest as he held him. And then, finally, he knew silence for what felt like the first time in years. Newton heard nothing but the humming of the overhead lights and the soft rasp of Hermann’s breath. They weren’t gone for good, no way. It couldn’t be that easy, but _damn_ did it feel good.


End file.
